


The Classics

by 1863



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-01 07:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12699852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1863/pseuds/1863
Summary: “Getting started without me?”





	The Classics

Graham closes his eyes and lowers his head, hands braced against the wall, letting the warm water run over the back of his neck and shoulders. Boot camp might have formally ended months ago, but 12-hour days in prosthetics and armour, carrying axes and swords and strapped into bits of padding and leather—it still takes a toll. He rolls his shoulders, tilting his head from side to side and arches his back, and grimaces a little when muscles he didn’t even know he had twinge in protest.

He fiddles with the taps, increasing the temperature and the pressure, enjoying the sting as the water beats down on his skin. The bathroom starts filling with steam and Graham grabs the soap, lathering it in his palms. It has a faintly woodsy scent, and he can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips when he smells it. So this is why he always smells so good, Graham thinks, running his soapy hands over his chest, mind invariably wandering to the other reasons why he’s feeling a little sore.

Graham thinks of eyes gone dark with lust and skin slick with sweat; remembers parted lips and ragged breathing. He recalls fingers tightening on his hips and a husky voice moaning in his ear, and Graham’s hands reach lower, palming over his stomach and his rapidly hardening cock.

Steam swirls around him as he lifts one of his hands to his chest again, running lightly over a nipple before letting his fingers tweak it more firmly. He moans a little, thinking of the night before, when a talented mouth had licked and sucked at that hard nub until Graham was writhing against the sheets. Graham’s other hand closes around his cock and he groans, stroking slowly. The mere thought of another person hasn’t gotten him this hard, this quickly since he was in his twenties and perpetually horny.

He pauses to lather his hands with more soap, breathing deeply, letting the scent wash over him. He leans against the wall and returns to playing with his nipples, fingertips rolling over them, the occasional pinch sending spikes of pleasure straight to his cock. More soap, and now the slickness of his fist and the heat of the steam have Graham’s hips moving, thrusting into his own hand. The water runs down his chest, the sound of it beating against his skin matching his quickening pulse.

Graham closes his eyes, fist tightening as he remembers pushing into intense heat and an almost unbearable tightness. The noises he’d made… 

Graham bites his lip, runs a thumb over the head of his cock, soap mixing with precome and he gasps, thinking of that long strong body stretched beneath him and the taste of sweat on that pale, pale skin.

He continues to thumb the head for long moments, circling the ridge and pressing into the tip, and he remembers another time, early on, when this thing was still new between them and they could barely keep their hands off each other. Remembers being pressed against a wall, hearing knees hit the floor, long fingers shoving his costume aside as a hot mouth swallowed him down. Graham strokes faster as he remembers, thinking about how hard it had been not to tangle his fingers into that salt-and-pepper wig, about how badly he’d wanted to tighten his grip and _pull_.

Graham tightens his fist now, fucking into his own hand, hips jerking as the water continues to run down his skin in a million tiny, hot caresses. The scent of the soap is heady now, hanging heavy in the steam. His mouth drops open on a groan as he recalls the sight of lips stretched wide around his cock, a dark head bobbing between his legs, cheeks hollowing as he was sucked, hard, hips pressed against the wall. He hadn’t given any warning before he came, wanting to see if his come would be taken with as much greed as everything else he’d offered, and when the only reaction was a deep moan around his throbbing cock, Graham had come so hard he’d seen stars.

Now his head drops, water clinging to his eyelashes as he moans, curling in on himself as his hand flies over his leaking cock. He reaches down with his other hand, rolling his balls, and his head falls back again, hitting the tiles with a soft thud.

“Fuck,” he breathes, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as he reaches up to twist a nipple again, still stroking hard and firm.

“Getting started without me?”

Graham opens his eyes.

The curve of Richard’s mouth is amused, but his eyes are heavy-lidded and hot. The steam has flushed his bare skin pink, and Graham watches through a curtain of water as he steps closer.

“I’m not the only one,” Graham pants, pointedly looking at Richard’s crotch.

Richard’s eyes track the movement of his hand as he continues to fist his cock, stroking slower now, wanting to draw it out.

“I haven’t even touched myself,” Richard says distractedly, unconsciously licking his lips.

A slow grin spreads across Graham’s face.

“Well are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there and watch?”

Richard’s gaze flicks up.

“Maybe I do just want to watch for a while.”

It’s not what Graham expects, and Richard’s eyebrows rise when he sees the surprise on Graham’s face.

“Really?” Richard asks. “After all the things we’ve done together, this is what surprises you?”

Graham smirks.

“If I’d known you were into voyeurism, I’d have just let you catch me wanking in the gym. Would’ve saved a lot of time.”

Richard grins back, and Graham is obscurely gratified that they’ve gotten to the point where they can joke about it now.

“You’re really just going to watch?” he asks, pitching his voice low and deliberately rolling his hips, looking up at Richard from beneath his lashes.

Richard’s hands curl around the frame of the shower door. He watches the movement of Graham’s hips for a moment, before stepping into the stall and pulling the door shut behind him. Then he leans against the opposite wall, just out of the spray, and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes are dark but there’s a bit of a challenge in them, too. 

Well, well, well. This a new development, Graham thinks, and grins.

He grabs the soap and starts to run the bar over his neck, down his chest, over his stomach. He gasps a little as he rubs firm strokes over his nipples, then lowers his hands, soaping up the insides of his thighs, too. Richard’s eyes are fixed on the soap as it passes over Graham’s skin, leaving trails of slickness as it goes.

Graham caresses his chest, working up a lather, thumbs sliding over his nipples. He does it over and over again, rubbing and pinching till they’re red and aching, listening as Richard’s breathing goes uneven and he shifts against the tile.

“Any time you want to step in,” Graham says, a little breathless, and Richard tears his eyes away from Graham’s fingers on his chest.

“I’m rather enjoying the show,” he says, and the roughness in his voice has Graham’s pulse speeding up, knowing that he’s the one that put it there.

Graham looks straight into Richard’s eyes as he wraps a hand around his own cock, and slowly tightens his grip. He holds Richard’s gaze as he starts to move his hips, fucking into his own fist with long, slow thrusts, working up a steady rhythm. Richard stares, lips parted and breathing hard, and Graham’s hips start to snap, eyes boring into Richard’s. He licks his lips.

“I’ve been thinking,” he pants, “about that time, on set.” He leans back against the wall, hips jerking up into his hand. “We were— _god_ —” he cuts off with a groan as he allows a thumb to circle the head of his cock. “Still in costume. Do you remember?”

Richard swallows. He’s hard now, leaking, the steam making his skin damp and his hair a shade darker. His lips are impossibly red from the heat.

“You blew me,” Graham continues, voice hoarse, “where anyone could have seen.” 

He strokes faster, hips thrusting harder.

“Wanted me,” he gasps, eyelids fluttering, “that badly.”

Richard is panting now, chest rising and falling, eyes flicking over Graham’s mouth and chest, staring rapt at his hand as it moves over his cock.

“Swallowed me right down,” Graham adds, hips jerking erratically now, remembering the wet heat of Richard’s mouth around him, the slick touch of that tongue licking him up and down.

Richard’s gaze is so intense that Graham can almost feel it, running over his skin like a feather-light touch. 

“You came in my mouth,” Richard says, voice a low growl, and Graham moans at the sound, breath hitching.

“ _Richard_ ,” he says, an order and a plea, and all at once he’s being shoved back against the wall, Richard stepping through the spray and pressing against him, the whole long length of him wet and hard and hot.

Graham curls a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in and kissing him deep, tongue finding Richard’s and sliding against it as his other hand finds Richard’s hip, fingers digging in as he drags Richard closer. Water cascades down their bodies as Richard splays his hands over Graham’s ribs, fingers twitching against his slick skin.

Graham slides his hands down over Richard’s back, curves them over that perfect round arse and tugs their hips together. Their cocks line up Richard breaks the kiss, panting, both of them moaning into each other’s open mouths as they rut against each other, the wet hot slide of their bodies at once too much and not enough. 

Richard scrabbles for the soap, slicking up his hands before sliding one between their bodies.

“Richard, _God_ ,” Graham chokes as those long, long fingers curl around both their cocks. He adds his own hand, partially enclosing Richard’s, and together they stroke, hips bucking. Graham lowers his head to mouth at Richard’s neck and Richard groans, head dropping to rest on Graham’s shoulder.

Graham’s other hand is still on Richard’s arse and he lets a finger slide between the cheeks, pressing it against his entrance. He doesn’t push in, just rubs, teasing, and Richard’s fingernails dig into his hips.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Richard whimpers, breath harsh and hot against Graham’s skin. His hips move faster, losing control, hand around their cocks tightening, Graham’s hips jerking in response. 

Their cocks slide against each other as their fists stroke harder and faster, the friction and pressure almost torturous, Richard pressing Graham into the tiles as the water runs scalding hot over them. Richard starts sucking at his collarbone, teeth scraping his skin and grip tightening without warning and Graham comes, hard and sudden, moaning from deep in his throat and right into Richard’s ear. 

Richard shudders, hips snapping, fucking into Graham’s shaking hand, cock pressed against Graham’s as he shudders, and it’s only a second more before he’s pushed over the edge too, come spilling out hot and thick and endless over both their hands and bellies. 

**

They stand in the spray for long minutes, hands on each other’s hips and foreheads pressed together, catching their breath. Eventually Graham reaches out and grabs the soap, pushing the bar into Richard’s hand.

“I’m younger than you,” Richard says, raising an eyebrow, “but it doesn’t mean I’m up for round two already.”

Graham rolls his eyes and grins.

“Funnily enough, you can use soap to get clean in a shower too, and not just for shower sex.”

Richard slides his arms around Graham’s waist, bends his head to lick at the water trickling down his neck.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with shower sex,” Graham adds, pulse speeding up again.

“I do like the classics,” Richard agrees, and kisses him under the spray.

The soap falls to the floor. Neither of them notice.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hobbit Kinkmeme.


End file.
